


Getaway Car

by versti_fantur



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Car Chase, Classic glanniþro, M/M, Pre-Relationship, but make it crime-y, glanni corrupting íþrós morals for 1.1k, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26396056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/versti_fantur/pseuds/versti_fantur
Summary: “Oh fuck off Íþró,” Glanni growled, his eyes narrowing as they met Íþróttaálfurinn’s, and yet his grip on the knife loosened. Íþró wouldn’t attack him, he knew that. “This isn’t anything to do with you.”“If you’re involved, it’s always my business.”//Glanni steals a car, some jewelleryand Íþró’s heart
Relationships: Glanni Glæpur/Íþróttaálfurinn
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	Getaway Car

**Author's Note:**

> aaa havent posted in ages cuz school started :/ sorry 😭 worm au should be out soon though ! but for now enjoy this classic glanniþro!

The car was stolen, obviously. Glanni wasn’t stupid enough to own one himself, not with his line of work; he never kept anything permanent that could be traced back to him if it was found. That was amateur behaviour, and _Glanni Glæpur_ was far better than that. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his expression a mix of grim determination and unbridled glee, adrenaline pounding in his chest at the thrill of the chase, it sharpened his senses, and he timed his breathing with the movement of the car.

It wasn’t flashy like the one he’d stolen from the President; its body painted a dull grey rather than sleek black, and its engine groaned and complained every time he shifted the gear lever, occasionally sticking and forcing him to use both hands to pull it. (Luckily he could steer with his knees). It wasn’t ideal, and Glanni wished he’d had the time to hotwire a different vehicle, but he could handle it. He’d escaped with far worse tools before. Sirens echoed behind him, bouncing off the tall concrete walls of the skyscrapers lining the road, and if he’d bothered to look in the rear-view mirror, the flashing red and blue lights loomed closer, closer.

The faux leather of the steering wheel tore beneath his hands as his fingernails caught its peeling edge. A claw wound against the black as he spun it sideways, sliding the car down an unlit avenue and flooring the accelerator. Turning his head for a second, he laughed as the cop cars sped past, a rough, harsh sound over the thrum of the engine and the whine of their sirens fading into the distance as they drove further away. A satisfied smirk dancing across his face, Glanni pulled the car back out onto a main street, revelling in his invincibility beneath the golden streetlamps.

All it took was a glance away from the road for reality to slam back into him full force. A shadow hurtled out of the sky, landing on the hood of the car heavily and crumpling the metal beneath it. Glanni had to swerve to a halt beside the road to avoid crashing into a wall.

He could feel his pulse thrumming through him, buzzing almost, as he pulled his knife from where he’d strapped it to his calf, gripping it tightly. The dim lighting made it impossible to see the figure clearly—for it was a figure, Glanni could tell that now, as they unfurled—and he gritted his teeth as he slipped out onto the pavement, slamming the car door.

But a familiar face stared back at him with an odd smile.

“Oh fuck off Íþró,” Glanni growled, his eyes narrowing as they met Íþróttaálfurinn’s, and yet his grip on the knife loosened. Íþró wouldn’t attack him, he knew that. “This isn’t anything to do with you.”

“If you’re involved, it’s always my business,” Íþró replied, hopping down from the car with a slight guilty look at the property damage he’d caused. He glanced down at the knife still in Glanni’s hand, but didn’t react, meeting Glanni’s gaze again, who watched him intently, unable to read his expression. Upon first examination, he seemed serious, but it didn’t quite match his eyes, the pale blue darkening into sea-like grey. “What did you do this time?”

“You really want to know?” Only the minute twitch of Glanni’s lip betrayed the plan formulating in his head, and if Íþró noticed, he didn’t say anything, only nodded warily. “Give me your hand.” Íþró eyed him strangely but complied, and Glanni snatched his hand with his own. His own hands were always cold and clammy—pale, bony fingers tipped with chipped nail polish. Íþró’s, he realised, were warm and strong, well-worn callouses brushing against his skin.

Forcing himself to focus again, irritated by his momentary hesitation, he swung the door open again, tossing the knife inside as he reached down to grab a bag from the floor, pushing it into Íþró’s hands, but not letting go of the other end himself.

“What’s in here?” Íþró asked, cautiously unzipping the top. Glanni couldn’t stop the smirk this time as he watched Íþró’s brow furrow in confusion, then anger as he drew out a handful of jewellery. “Glanni! I’m taking this to the police-”

Glanni cut him off with a sharp laugh, pulling the bag back towards him and tossing it back into the car. “Your fingerprints are on it too now. No way to prove your innocence. If I go down, you come with me.” He took Íþró’s hand again, linking their fingers together in a softer gesture than his words implied. “Now you can leave, or, if you want to, come with me.” His thumb stroked along Íþró’s skin. “Do you want to get in then?”

Íþró stared at him wordlessly. Even though he was usually so expressive that Glanni could tell exactly what he was thinking, currently too many emotions flittered across his face for Glanni to understand. Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds as Glanni hopped into the driver’s seat, his pulse thrumming again, radiating out from where their hands touched. He opened his mouth to speak, to ask again, but before he could, Íþró jumped backwards, staring pointedly back where Glanni had arrived from.

Where sirens where echoing closer.

With one last glance between the police cars in the distance and Glanni in front of him, Íþró sighed and flipped over the car to get into the passenger seat. Glanni’s eyes lingered as Íþró put on his seatbelt, but as soon as he was done, he floored the accelerator, taking off down the street at a speed that forced Íþró back in his chair.

The streetlamps and traffic lights blurred together, colourful against the hazy black of the sky and the buildings.

If Glanni was honest, he hadn’t expected Íþró to join him, not really. His plan had intended to scare him away, so Glanni could escape. But now, as Íþró was beside him, blue eyes darting anxiously back at the road behind, Glanni was glad of his company. He wasn’t sure why Íþró had agreed to come with him, his odd behaviour indicated something wasn’t quite right, but Glanni didn’t really care, not now anyway. Sensing Íþró’s growing nerves, Glanni rolled his eyes but reached out towards him, taking his hand and squeezing. Íþró froze, staring at Glanni with his eyes wide, but as Glanni didn’t let go, he slowly relaxed, even squeezing back a little.

His chosen safe house was still half an hour away, and they’d have to discard the car somewhere before that, so he could worry about whether Íþró had underlying motives then. For now he could ignore how nice Íþró’s hand felt in his own, and how the sirens faded away into nothingness as he drove faster. Because for now, he was free.

**Author's Note:**

> this whole things based on Getaway car by taylor swift lmao 
> 
> ily all <3 comments and kudos are wonderful uwu


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